


Broken Hearts Club

by coolCoolGlasses



Series: Shitpost Valley [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jokes, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, Unrequited Love, game mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolCoolGlasses/pseuds/coolCoolGlasses
Summary: The Farmer's just trying to live his life. Simple, uncomplicated. It's everyone else making it weird.OR: The Shrine of Memory has been tapped. Now what?
Relationships: Sam/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Shitpost Valley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141145
Kudos: 21





	1. Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> There's gonna be jumping around a little. Hopefully the dates at the top will help.

### Summer, Year 2

The rooster crowed.

Chad Scallion’s angular, dark gray eyes popped open. He was in his farmhouse.

The last thing he remembered was paying Dr. Harvey a few thousand gold for an “emergency surgery,” whatever that was supposed to mean.

> _“If you had died I don’t know what I...” Harvey caught himself._
> 
> _Why? Why would you say that, Harv? What am I supposed to do with that?_

Pfft. **_Surgery._ ** What had Harvey even done? Chad had still bled with every step home from the clinic. A pint of beer and purple mushrooms would have done him more good **_and_ **it would have cost less.

> _Harvey made a face. Yoba, he was still so handsome when he was flustered._

Chad was fine now. Just as he always was after a rough night in the mines. He just needed a good night’s rest.

> _His fluster quickly soured. “_ **_Do… DO_ ** _with it? There’s_ **_nothing_ ** _TO do with it, Chad!”_
> 
> _But holy effen forkballs Harvey was attractive when he was angry._

Chad ran his hands through his thick bleached-white hair to gather his chin-length faux hawk into a knot. He dug in his dresser for a shirt. Well shoot, he’d forgotten to do laundry again. 

> _“You can’t do what you did and then pretend like the rest of us didn’t happen!”_

The Farmer supposed his newly-made husband Sam wouldn’t care if he swiped one of his shirts today. Sam never seemed to mind too much about lots of things. Sam was easy-going. He kept things simple. Sure he sometimes acted REALLY immature and it was occasionally embarrassing to watch a grown-ass man in his 20s plan kid pranks and complain about his mother’s cooking BUT! Sam was an otherwise beautiful, uncomplicated bundle of stars and sunshine.

Everyone else in town was… quite frankly a mess. 

> _“How I felt about you- that’s not something that I can just will away instantaneously.”_

All the singles in Pelican town needed to venture out, stop flirting with him and each other, find Yoba or something.

The first shirt Chad pulled out of Sam’s drawer had Gotoran characters that read “Fast Chocolate Earwax,” paired with the Ferngillian word “Destiny.” Chad squeezed his eyes shut in a quiet display of mortification.

He dug around to find something less… _that_ to wear. 

Maybe he’d eventually find the emotional strength to talk to Sam about it. _**BUT!**_ If he shoved it deep, deep into the back of the drawer _(maybe!)_ he’d never never never ever ever have to deal with it.


	2. Scowls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo asked for some fluff? I SEE YOU DID YES YOU DID

### Spring, Year 5

It was noon. Or two. Or possibly even four.

“Oh! O-oh-n-nah-no-ha-ha-hahahahaha-stop! STOP! STOOOOP HAHAHAHA,” Sam cackled, then coughed, then wheezed and coughed. 

Chad Scallions stopped his tickle assault for Sam to catch his breath. He roughly rubbed and patted Sam’s back through the coughing fit.

The Farmer spooned the Rocker on Sam’s bed at his parents’ house. Just beyond the bedroom door, Kent’s low baritone, Jodi’s cautious murmurs, and squeals and laughter of children could be heard.

“I’d apologize-”

“But you’re-” _COUGH_ “never-” _GASP_ “-sorry,” said Sam, a tear or two clouding his eye.

Despite Sam being unable to see it, Chad gave Sam one of his famous eat-shit grins. “Nope!”

The cushions and sheets shuffled in response to Sam flipping so he could be face to face with Chad. They scanned each other’s faces, taking in the changes time had made to one another. 

Sam now had a bit of blonde stubble- maybe he was trying to grow a beard? Or had he just forgotten for a while? Dyed pink hair, ear plugs, and several piercings to really sell that rocker image he imagined for himself. Did he have bags under his eyes? It hasn’t been that long, has it? Maybe all those shows and late nights travelling from the city...

Chad was…

Chad, Sam supposed, really hadn’t aged a day. It’s true what they said about Gotoran kids, then. Forever young until they’re not.

He ran a hand through Chad’s bleached-white mop. “When are you going to do something about this? It looks ridiculous.”

Chad scoffed and nuzzled into Sam’s chest. “Bastian doesn’t think so.”

Sam hugged him close and made a face. “Is that what you call him now?”

“He calls me ‘Scalz,’ and makes it sound like ‘Scowls.’”

“Ha. Sounds just like him.”

They held one another, listening to the muffled noises coming from the living room.

“Chad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… do you like anyone?”

Chad stared at Sam blankly.

“Dude, why _the fuck_ would you say that? I’m with Sebastian now.”

Sam chortled.

_In a relationship with his bestie._

_What a dumb joke._

Chad’s eyes widened, almost glaring.

Sam laughed again, uncomfortably.

They decided to just hold each other quietly.

* * *

Sam’s long lashes fluttered open. The room was dark except for the living room light that squeezed beneath the door. Chad was still in his arms- one of which was going numb. He shifted and Chad jolted awake. 

“Gabbah-uhh-WHUTTYMIZzIT”

“I dunno dude it’s dark.”

“UH. GUH I GOTTA GO.”

“Hey, hey it’s cool!”

Chad continued slipping his socks on. “Nuh, nuh nuh gotta- feed Apple her dinner and-”

“‘Apple?’ New dog? She’ll be fine.”

Chad froze, again glaring at Sam. “Oh my god, you always do this. HOW do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Apple? Sweet Apple? OUR Apple? APPLE??”

“You keep saying Apple like it means something, my man.”

“BECAUSE IT SHOULD. H-HOW DO YOU KEEP FORGETTING who Apple is? Apple, OUR DAUGHTER???”

Sam started laughing, like this was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. **_Daughter?_** But he and Chad **_weren’t even in a relationship._**

“Oh my god, DUDE.”

Chad went to the door. In burst a beautiful little blonde girl with pigtails. She wore a blue jumper about the same color as Sam’s jean jacket.

“POPPY!!” shrieked the child, and she leapt into Sam’s arms.

“HEYYYYYY,” he responded wearily. He watched Chad to see when he would end the prank.

Chad smacked his forehead.

Jodi and Kent shuffled in with that uncertain look in their eyes.

“Again?” Jodi asked her son’s ex-husband.

“It’s the skateboarding,” grumbled Kent. “Too many concussions.”


	3. Logistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past few years are a BLACK HOLE in Sam's mind. Why can't he remember his time with The Farmer?

### Spring, Year 3

All Chad Scallions wanted was a simple, uncomplicated life.

Then he went and found himself a sunshine rainbow hair-brained skateboard guitar husband.

Then that man went and complicated things even further.

It could have been another long night in the mines. Maybe it was storming. Maybe there was a typhoon.

Whatever the situation, if, **_IF(!)_ **Chad had answered in the affirmative (he maintains he did NOT), the question “should we adopt a baby” asked before passing out for the day maybe kind of sort of DEFINITELY required a follow-up discussion in the morning.

Double-confirmation at minimum.

Budgets. Responsibilities. LOGISTICS needed to be discussed.

But now Sam held a baby - a real, human girl - in his arms. The mess of emotions on his face was INDESCRIBABLE. 

Both Sam and the baby were each covered in their own tears and snot.

For the 40th time, Chad scanned the paperwork Mayor Lewis had dropped off along with the child.

_18 months. Deceased parents. No relatives. Her name was a NUMBER._

**_Yoba._ **

Chad acknowledged he was a monster trash man but even HE had limits.

_Fine._

“What d’ya wanna call her?”

The whole of Sam’s body snapped in attention. “R-really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“I’m going to be the best at this you don’t even know.”

Chad didn’t doubt it. He was amazing with Vincent and Jasmine.

 _Hmm._ In retrospect, he should have seen this coming.

Sam held the baby aloft, examining her. He hadn’t asked for a child who shared any of his features, but it seemed the agency had done it anyway. Soft blonde curls, ocean blue-green eyes. Apple cheeks.

“Samson. What do you want to call her?”

* * *

### Spring, Year 5

“Wh-when… HOW did she happen? Why can’t I remember this?”

In his parents’ living room Sam bounced Apple on his knee while still somehow trying to hold his palms to her ears. It wouldn’t have made a difference because she was already giggling loud enough to wake Zuzu city. 

Vincent (Sam’s little brother and Apple’s uncle), took the child from Sam and began distracting her with a stuffed jumino toy. Vince was surprisingly adept with toddlers. Chad often paid the teen to watch Apple in the evenings so he could get the more dangerous farm activities done without her interfering.

“Shhh, shhh,” Vince cooed at Apple, “Inside voices.”

“Inside!” She cooed back, at a volume that could be heard in the Stardrop.

“We’re working on that,” Vincent said apologetically to Chad and Sebastian. The men shrugged. It was fine. Living on a farm it just never occurred to them to tell Apple she was loud.

Sam lowered his voice, leaning toward his friends. “If Apple is mine, who is her mother?”

Chad thought his ex-husband was cute because he was so dumb. He was also **_made_ **his ex-husband because he was so dumb. Chad groaned. His now-husband poked him in the ribs to bring him back to the conversation.

Sebastian leveled Sam with his eyes. “You and Chad adopted her, you stupid asshole,” he whispered. 

Chad always loved his Bastian for his sardonic, no-care-but-actually-most-certainly-cares-deeply-about-everything attitude. The way he piled layers of sarcasm with such succinctness just thrilled him.

“For fukken shit’s sake, Sam,” his partner continued.

Chad squeezed Sebastian’s hand.

“Ohhhhhh.” Sam chewed on that for a bit. He looked at Chad. “Why did we adopt a kid together, Chad? It’s not like we were a couple or anything.”

Sam’s family and Sebastian paused. It was ever so imperceptible, but Chad saw it.

Jodi and Kent looked at Chad. Kent had a firm hand on her shoulder. It was a simple, uncomplicated gesture. Whether it was to soothe her nerves or his wasn’t clear.

“Sam, honey,” said his monther, “You don’t… remember being married to Chad?”

Sam searched the folds and pockets of his brain mass. He chuckled uncomfortably. “You’re all shitting me.”

“Samson, language!” barked Kent. 

“I thought…" said Jodi, carefully, "when you came home last year you were denying you had ever been married because you were heart broken.”

“But when you and Chad seemed cool with each other," continued Vincent, "we thought-"

"-It was an inside joke,” Sebastian finished. He squeezed Sam's shoulder. "But you're serious?"

Jodi took her son's hand. "You really don't remember?"

Sam laughed nervously. “Scallions! They’re shitting us, right?”

Chad had nothing to say.

But Apple sure did!

"Shi-" Sebastian scooped the kid up and tossed her in the air. "YAHAHAHA!"

“Chad,” Kent rumbled quietly, “What did you do to our son?”

Kent had asked _**“What**_ did you do,” not _**“Did**_ you do something?” The _ **“what”** _bounced in Chad’s subconscious, getting louder and louder.

Kent couldn’t have known.

**_Could he?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic as a joke about my trash Farmer but I stumbled into a plot. Oops!!
> 
> Please join me on this idiot ride


	4. Chuckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wizard needs a favor.

### Winter, Year 1

The Wizard went silent as he considered his next words. 

“My wife and I were together for many years until… until I made a mistake that drove her away. Her anger and envy were so intense that she turned green and began flying around the countryside, cursing everything in her path.”

The wind blew, causing the falling snow to swirl and undulate about the train station.

The Farmer dug the nail of his index finger beneath the nail of the middle finger of his opposite hand. That only served to drive in grains of soil and fertilizer deeper still.

“Forkin’ Yoba,” the Farmer threw his head back to the sky in a groan. “Y’know how to get dirt out from underneath nails?”

The Wizard watched the Farmer quietly. 

“Y’know this morning Penny sent me a photocopy from some farmer’s almanac? Says I could scratch a bar of soap to keep dirt from ever gettin’ in there in the first place. Fat lot of good it does me now. I’ve had this since _last week_. She coulda told me when I saw her back then _._ ”

The Farmer’s eyes wandered to the bathhouse and he smiled stupidly. “Well. She might have been a lil’ bit busy last week.”

The Wizard lowered his eyebrows. The Farmer winked. “And I was busy too. You know. With her. Over there. In the bath house. Ha-ha up-top.”

Suddenly, the sky went dark and lightning cracked through the heavens.

“Prichadee Tn’hom!” bellowed the Wizard. “I have risked the eyes of innocents to tell you my story. Listen to it!”

The Farmer dropped his unanswered high-five and glared at the Wizard, annoyed. “I told you, don’t call me that. It annoys _the shit_ out of me when people mispronounce it. How’d you like it if I called you Raggle-mo-dean?”

The Wizard narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, I see you, Ruffledicks. You will learn how to pronounce all kinds of fantasy race bullshit but then you run into a southron name it’s all, _‘tuh-nu-home? Homey? Hoooon?'_ ”

“You know very well that elves, dwarves, shadow-people, and the like are _not_ ‘fantasy,’” the Wizard warned. “Their _real_ ancient cultures are just as dense and diverse as our own.”

“Yeah cool-cool, I’m a real _modern_ human with my own _modern_ culture too. Maybe you could learn how to speak **_my_ **native language or even Gotoran?” the Farmer spat. “Freaking white Ferngillians I swear to the almighty.”

The wizard kept his mouth shut, gears turning to come up with something to explain how this didn't make him a racist. Maybe the Farmer was one for calling him white.

“In any case, I was listening,” continued the man who called himself Chad Scallions for the benefit of fragile Ferngillians. “Your ex-wife’s the witch that messes with my chickens. Got it. I take it she’s also behind that weird bird-legged artifact?”

The Wizard continued his silence, as if trying to will his eyes to shoot lasers through Chad’s head.

“You tried to seal her in, _OR_ sealed it shut so villagers can’t get in? That the gist?”

The Wizard puffed his cheeks.

“Get on with it, Raspberry Beret. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“My ex-wife took my magic ink in the divorce settlement and I need it back.”

“I can teach you how to make magic disappearing ink with lemons, my liege.”

Lightning shot next to the Farmer. Chad jumped. “Holy flipping Yoba, Fraggle Rock! Freaking-” Chad hurled a rock at the Wizard, who easily stepped out of the way. “DON'T DO THAT SHIT I KNOW YOU WON’T KILL ME CAUSE YOU NEED ME.”

“Maybe I won’t kill you, but I can make you supremely uncomfortable.”

The farmer’s clothes stuck to his body and crackled as he moved. Chad’s normally bunned hair was undone. Now it stood up in all directions. He tried to smooth it down. It popped back up with even more crackles. “SHIT.”

“Calm down, _‘Chuckles,’”_ the Wizard laid heavy sarcasm on the title. “I’ll make it worth your time.”


	5. Gambling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well sir, that Chad Scallion's ain't nothing like the old man who used to live here...

###  **Spring, Year 5**

“Wait.” 

The living room was split in twain with Sam, his parents, and Sebastian on the comfy upholstered furniture and Farmer Chad Scallions by himself in the squeaky office chair hot seat. With Vincent listening in from his cracked door, Chad was surrounded.

“Wait.” Sam gripped his chest, as if he could hold his heart in his hand. “You… you were why Penny left the Valley all those years ago?”

"Yeah, that was… before I learned a little discretion,” Chad said, sheepishly. As if he were _ever_ capable of truly being ashamed.

Sam ran a hand through his hot pink hair. “Sweet Yoba, I thought it was all my fault…”

“Technically, yes? It was me, **_with you.”_ **

Sam searched for something to say, his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish hunting for flakes.

Chad understood his ex-husband was never interested in Penny _like that_ , but he had known she was interested in him. So Sam felt personally responsible for her happiness. The fact that Penny had been so devastated when she left Pelican Town weighed on Sam, like it was his responsibility to have prevented it. To have it confirmed he was the cause of it…

“Chad.” Sebastian said it simply, without emotion. Yet it was a warning.

“Penny’s in a better place though!” Chad counted his next points on his fingers. “She got her degree, she’s runnin’ a lil’ Montessori in Zuzu, she’s—”

Kent slapped the coffee table with a resounding _THWACK_. Books jumped. A drink spilled on the carpet. Jodi hissed as she rose from the couch to clean the mess. “Kent, seriously…”

Chad continued: “You can’t pretend she’d be able to do any of that if she stayed—”

_“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON, SCALLIONS?”_

“Hold your dick Kent **_I’M GETTING TO THAT.”_**

“PRADACHEE!”

Chad clapped his hands together in prayer. “Jodi I love you but OH MY GOD STOP you’ll never get it right.”

He turned his attention to everyone else. “Start at the start?”

Everyone groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I let this sit up for a few weeks and decided to chop the second half out entirely.
> 
> It felt too off style-wise. The event happened, it just won't be acknowledged that way in this story.
> 
> So if you got to read it COOL, and if not you were none the wiser until NOW.


	6. Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start at the start and take it away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original version of the last chapter I wrote myself into a direction I decided I didn't want things to go, I'm doing a lil' bit of rearranging to get back on track.
> 
> If you got to read the last chapter before the edits, yeah that's the whole background of how Chad came to be the Farmer buuuuuut it's not necessary knowledge for this story SO OFF THAT GOES!
> 
> I'll be back in a few days with the NEW CONTENT ;D I know the destination but we're flying by the seat of my pants! Thanks for reading my goofy fic.
> 
> btw, I started my Tumblr up again. I'm also drawing fan art again there's a Stardew piece in therrrrrre: <https://lawofgar.tumblr.com/>

###  **Spring, Year 1**

Chad Scallions’ first-day meeting with the Mayor and the local carpenter had gone unexpectedly long. 

The carpenter had surprised him by guessing he didn’t know Ferngillian and speaking to him in perfect Gotoran capital dialect. Turned out that the carpen— Robin. Her name was Robin. Robin’s first husband was Gotoran and she was dying for any excuse to speak it.

> _Months later, when the Farmer was telling the story of how Robin "had been dying" to speak Gotoran to him in their first meeting, Sebastian curtly informed Chad that the reason his father was no longer in the picture was that he was stone-cold dead.  
>  _
> 
> _Oopsies!_

Robin had also mentioned that her son from that first marriage is half-Gotoran and asked that he come to meet him as well. 

Chad didn’t have the heart, but mostly he didn’t have _the energy_ to explain to her that though his home country Seriphaph existed on the Gotoran continent it didn’t make him a Gotoro-Gotoran.

> _Yes, Ferngillians. Tell Chad again how that’s confusing. Sure. Oh no, he hadn’t heard or thought that before! Yes, absolutely, he’ll go right to The Capital and tell the Emperor to change it.  
>  _

But she probably knew all that. She might have known from her last husband or even her son that sometimes it gets a bit lonely being the only POC in the room.

There was no reason to be rude about that.

“He might have questions about his heritage. Maybe you could inject some culture into him?” Chad had smiled and nodded, doing his best to not make a dirty joke to this woman about _her son._

Mayor Lewis himself _did not_ like Chad. He threatened to run him out of town. And for what? Because Chad got _offended_ when Lewis ignored him when he stepped off the bus? Because Chad _ignored him_ when he and Robin carried on talking in Gotoran without him?

“This is a small community. Adding in just one new person can change the dynamic here. Try not to ruin my town."

* * *

### Fall, Year 4

And here Chad was, watching the color drain from the eyes of his love, his idiot-sunshine-happy-puppy-man.


	7. Brambles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Old Farmer had REASONS for willing the property to his grandchildren. He had four. Certainly ONE OF THEM would take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: References to vomiting. Blood. 
> 
> ENJOY!
> 
> ICYMI in the last post, my tumblr is back and imma doodlin' fanart again. [So ch-ch-ch-check it out!](http://lawofgar.tumblr.com)

###  **Spring, Year 01**

_chirrup_

_chirrup_

Farmer Joe McCallister had come to Stardew Valley to live a life that was simple, uncomplicated. 

He had arisen with the dawn, feeling rested better than he had in years. He made himself a coffee and stepped outside.

Joe found his favorite seat- a hanging porch swing suspended between the tall maples and oaks of a tree grove he never tore down. Trees thick with leaves even for the spring rustled and whispered above as he rocked the chair back and forth. Here, he was surrounded by raspberry and black berry brambles. 

He surveyed his land.

Stardust Farm was always beautiful this time of day- right before the world of man came to life. It was just Joe and nature. Neat rows of rows of flowers, cauliflower, kale, potatoes, and onions sparkled with dew. 

_chirrup_

_chirrup_

_P-shck! P-shck! P-shck!_

_ploop splissshhhh_

_chirrup_

He closed his eyes and let the breeze overcome him.

* * *

A rush of air shot through Chad Scallions and he shivered. It carried the smell of berries and… “old man” was the best way he could describe it. Musky. Oily. That dash of fresh soil and tomato vines. Something rank and with the smell of death.

Chad gagged, just a little. Better than when he first got here. Was he getting used to the smell? Gods.

The old man was still here, Chad was convinced of it.

On his first night, he had fallen asleep in the old man’s bed. Then, he woke up naked buried in brambles and thorns. The joker had dragged him out of the farmhouse, through the weeds, and left him there! 

When Chad finally made it out cut, bleeding, and bruised, the Mayor happened to be there dropping off a box with seeds and supplies. Lewis had already announced he didn’t foresee himself getting along with Farmer Scallions, and finding him crawling out of the weeds naked like some diseased caveman was a perfect excuse to harangue him.

“I don’t know how you do things in Gotoro,” he began, “But in Ferngill we have propriety! What if someone saw? I SAW! What if a tourist were here? Think of the children!”

“It’s private property,” Chad had countered. He was still dazed and hadn’t yet figured out what had happened. “Set an appointment next time.”

And so it went, with the ghost playing pranks on Chad every other night and Chad finding himself in increasingly uncomfortable and precarious positions. Here in Ferngill, folks dismissed talk of spirits as crazy woo-woo nonsense. Seriphani, on the other hand, had a rich culture of magic and spirituality. Back in the old country Chad had kept up with his great grandmother via the shrines. Surely, the Ferngillians had _something_ similar?

Chad resolved to figure out how to speak with Old Joe, make him understand that he owned Stardust now, not him.

He noticed a pattern, that the smell would come from and leave to the northeastern part of the farm throughout the day. Could it be the old man’s corpse? It had been near two decades so he shouldn't be rotting any more. The Farmer would have to clear a path to check it out.

* * *

Old Joe chuckled to himself. This new kid was fun to mess with. Tenacious.

Where were his grand children? Alvin? Ally? Even Allister or Alice would do. It had been about 20 years since he died and the farm had gone fallow. 

Sending this small, brown Gotoran boy to do all the work for them wasn’t going to work- it was _his grandkids_ who needed to toil here.

Old Joe was beginning to doubt his grandchildren were ever coming.

At this rate, the Elderly Farmer would **_never_ **ascend.

The boy needed to go. 

How far could Old Joe push before he’d leave?


End file.
